


Trouble Is My Business

by Port



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adventure, F/F, Jemma likes historical buildings okay?, Skye is a voter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port/pseuds/Port
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye and Jemma go on a date in Memphis. Naturally, they wind up saving democracy as we know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble Is My Business

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the towerparty comm on LJ. My prompt was awesome: "Don't go looking for trouble."

“I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. for the science,” Jemma told her, “and to see the world.” She carefully stepped over a man lying prone in the wide hallway. He didn’t twitch. “I still never anticipated visiting the White House.”

Skye studied her friend. Like Skye, Jemma was still dressed for their date, which had started off in Memphis, where the Bus had been parked for several days due to mechanical difficulties. (Actual mechanical difficulties, rather than the usual repairs necessitated by mid-air altercations with Hydra and/or flying superhumans.) After a while, being grounded had begun to feel like _being grounded_ , and Coulson had proposed--insisted, really, with no little exasperation--that she go out and do something with all her restless energy.

“Just don’t go looking for trouble,” he said, mindful of past incidents involving Skye and her spare time.

“No worries, AC,” Skye had said. “I’ll have Simmons to distract me.”

“Oh, good,” Coulson had deadpanned.

Skye still wasn’t sure what to make of Coulson’s faint confidence in their ability to pass a quiet night on the town. She shrugged off the memory and hefted the energy weapon she had lifted from one of the Hydra agents she and Jemma had disabled upon entering the building. The corridors were worryingly quiet; everyone they encountered lay passed out on the carpet, men and women in business-wear who Skye had to assume were White House staffers and interns and Secret Service agents. Ridiculously, she felt out of place in her little red dress and tall-heeled leather boots. Simmons wore a figure-hugging black dress that tastefully left just enough to the imagination. They really had only planned on a night of dinner and clubbing. 

“Oh, my God,” Skye said, studying Jemma’s open face. “You are totally fangirling this entire building, aren’t you.”

“It’s the _White House_ ,” Jemma squeaked, obviously trying to contain a great deal of excitement. “The _President_ lives here. Aren’t you just a wee bit excited to be where so much history has taken place?”

“I suppose,” Skye said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I voted for her three times, but we go interesting places all the time.”

“Three times? Skye, this is her first term--oh, dear lord, you’ve committed voter fraud!”

Skye winced. “She supports Net neutrality and gay rights; she deserves an extra vote or two.”

To Skye’s surprise, Jemma burst into a smile. “You are incredible.”

Sometimes, Skye just really wanted to kiss Jemma. And the recent shift in their relationship status meant she didn’t always have to hold back.

“Really, right now?” Jemma murmured. She pressed her lips against Skye’s, then pulled back. “First things first.”

“Yeah, yeah, rescue the President, foil Hydra, stop by the gift shop.”

“And snog your girlfriend some more.”

“That’s high on my list.” 

They turned a corner (and damn, if the place didn’t look just like it did on The West Wing reruns that had nourished the idealism of Skye’s teen years) and found themselves in the foyer of the Oval Office.

“Okay, now I’m a little starry-eyed,” Skye murmured, studying the door to what should be the most secure workspace on earth. It was ajar, and all around them people lay unconscious from knockout gas. “But Hydra has to be in there.”

They crept up and listened.

“You’ll never get away with this,” said a familiar voice from within, and not the one Skye had been expecting. She and Jemma traded alarmed looks. Shit was serious now.

“With your president hostage,” came an unfamiliar voice from the office, “we’ll get away with everything. And now that we have you too, S.H.I.E.L.D. itself is in our power.”

Skye risked a peek inside just in time to see two Hydra goons push Coulson against the wall beneath a painting of George Washington. Coulson winced, winded by the impact. May’s training kicked in hard, forcing Skye to remain calm, to calculate before acting. There were only six Hydra people in there, two holding guns on Coulson, the other four clustered around the desk. Apparently the knockout gas released throughout the building had done away with the need for a large strike force. The President was out of sight, but someone lay on a settee that had its back to the door, one stockinged foot resting on the arm. Odds were the owner of that foot was the President.

“On three?” Simmons whispered. Skye nodded. Between the two of them and their stolen energy weapons, and with the element of surprise, it shouldn’t be too hard to take out the bad guys.

“One,” Skye whispered. “Two.”

“Three!” Coulson yelled, suddenly attacking his guards.

The ensuing fight was indeed brief, with fire traded between Skye and Jemma at the door and the four agents at the desk, and Coulson doing an impressive number on the two men who had been guarding him. When the noise died down, the score was S.H.I.E.L.D. 6, Hydra 0. 

“How on earth did you know we were counting?” Jemma demanded, rushing to Coulson as quickly as she could in the higher-than-usual heels she had donned for their date two days and what seemed like a million years ago. 

“I spotted Skye at the door and took a chance,” Coulson said. Skye rolled her eyes, but she had to admit Coulson didn’t do anything without style. “Why are you two dressed like that?”

“We were on a date.”

“In Memphis, two days ago,” Coulson responded. “What happened?”

Jemma launched into an explanation about how their dinner had been interrupted by the Winter Soldier, who was being pursued by more Hydra agents, and the tangle of events that had followed and led them here. 

“You know, when you told me to stay out of trouble, I kind of thought you’d be doing the same thing,” Skye remarked.

Coulson leveled a repressive look at her, then sighed. “We both should have known better.”

_End_


End file.
